


waiting for the catch-up

by InvadingThoughts



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 21:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvadingThoughts/pseuds/InvadingThoughts
Summary: Halfway through the movie, Jeremy starts migrating himself across the couch.To begin with, he starts at the other arm with legs splayed up wildly on the coffee table; and then, he seems to sink in on himself, head drooping slightly to the left with his arms curled up close to his chest. Then, he slumps left completely down onto his back, hooking his legs over the armrest and tilting his head back just far enough so he can sleepily smile up at Michael.





	waiting for the catch-up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smittenbritain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/gifts).

> This is for Cole! for the Secret Sunshine event over on the RT writers discord! Hope you like it! :D

Halfway through the movie, Jeremy starts migrating himself across the couch. 

To begin with, he starts at the other arm with legs splayed up wildly on the coffee table; and then, he seems to sink in on himself, head drooping slightly to the left with his arms curled up close to his chest. Then, he slumps left completely down onto his back, hooking his legs over the armrest and tilting his head back just far enough so he can sleepily smile up at Michael. 

His final position—one Michael _ really _should have seen coming—leaves him with his head on Michael’s lap and his face turned towards Michael’s stomach, losing a fight with sleep. And for the first ten minutes, Michael fights the urge to run his fingers through Jeremy’s hair. He keeps his hands by his sides, barely breathing as Jeremy’s dozes quietly. But then tired brown eyes open and stare up at him, lit by the flashes of explosions on the TV and Michael can’t stop himself. 

He drops his hand to Jeremy’s hair, gently pulling his fingers through the purple and orange strands and, as evidenced by the way his lips curve into a small, sleepy grin, that’s what Jeremy was buying for the whole time. 

“You’re like a cat, Jeremy,” Michael whispers, no longer bothering to pretend he’s watching the movie. “You better not start coughing up hairballs or I’ll fucking dump you out in the street.”

Jeremy hums, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would fucking so. I ain’t putting up with that shit. You know how many times Gavin’s asked for a crew pet?” he says, fingernails scratching down the back of Jeremy’s neck, “you know how many times I’ve shut that shit down?”

“It’s different,” he mumbles back and Michael snorts. From the other couch, Jack shushes them and Michael gives her silhouette the finger. She gives him one right back.

“Yeah? And why’s that, huh?”

“Mmm, ‘cause you love me.” 

The words catch Michael off guard, and for a moment, his hand stills. He’s never taken a moment to analyse him and Jeremy. They’ve always _just_ _been_. In heists, in video games; in trouble and in happiness. From the first day that Jeremy joined the crew, waiting for them to find him on the roof of the penthouse with a grenade launcher and a wild grin, they’ve just been the easy choice. 

“I do, do I?” he asks, whispering it low enough so only Jeremy can hear him. He wonders if Jeremy can hear his heartbeat pounding away in his chest; or feel the slight tremor to his hands. Jeremy’s just pulled him onto a tightrope with those words, and Michael honestly doesn’t know if he shouldn’t just jump off. 

“Yeah,” Jeremy replies, and for a moment, it seems like that’s all he’s going to offer. But then he blinks up at Michael and yawns, blinking back watery eyes, “I’ve given up on waiting for you to catch up.”

The words rip themselves out of Michael before he can think any better. 

“And you love me, too?”

Jeremy shrugs, body contorting awkwardly as he breathes out a soft, “Eh,” and Michael can’t help the frown. He shoves at Jeremy’s shoulder, aiming to push him off, but Jeremy just bats his hand away like a child. 

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole,” Michael says, feeling constricted. Too compressed. Like someone’s taken all his atoms and tried to press him out flat. It was just a stupid joke, and he can already feel his cheeks heating up in embarrassment at overreacting, but he can’t help it. 

He wants off of the couch, away from the blurred sounds of the movie and the heavy pressure of Jeremy’s body, but ultimately, Jeremy doesn’t let him. 

“Hey, hey, hey, you know I didn’t mean that. Of course, I fucking love you, dude,” he whispers, sitting up and climbing onto Micheal’s lap. He frames Michael’s face with his hands and strokes his thumbs down his cheek. “Listen,” he whispers, forcing Michael to meet his gaze, ‘I love you so fucking much, Michael. Like, I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate, dude. And yeah, I have no _ actual _proof, but I feel it. You and me forever, yeah?”

Michael lets out a shuddering breath and nods, before grabbing a fistful of Jeremy’s shirt and tugging him in close enough to kiss. He swallows the soft exhale Jeremy lets out and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in between parted lips. He can taste the buttered popcorn on Jeremy’s tongue and he can’t help but smile into the kiss, sliding his hands onto Jeremy's hips and holding him steady.

They only break apart, when Gavin throws a pillow at them from across the room. “Movies finished you too,” he says, “Geoff said to tell you that you’re gross.”

The others must have left for bed, Michael realises, because it's only the three of them left in the lounge room. Jeremy makes no effort to move, so Michael follows suit and reclines back into the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Well, you can tell Geoff _ too fucking bad. _” 

Gavin huffs, climbing to his feet, barely managing to dodge the pillow Jeremy swings back at him. “Tell him your bloody self, I'm going to bed. Don't you’s dare get cum stains on the couch.”

“You’re not my dad,” Jeremy calls back, waiting until Gavin fully disappears down the hallway before turning back to Michael. They stare at each other for a moment in peaceful silence until Jeremy moves to extract himself from Michael’s lap. “C’mon,” he whispers, grabbing Michael’s hand, leading him out of the lounge and into his room. 

It's only once they're lying side by side in bed that Michael finally says the words _ I love you _ back. He whispers them into the dark, blindly reaching out to intertwine his and Jeremy’s hands together and beside him, Jeremy laughs. 

“I know. I’ve always known,” he whispers back, lifting their hands to kiss Michael’s knuckles. “There was never any doubt.”

_ One & a half years later. _

Jeremy stops in front of him in the middle of the aisle, with a hand resting against his heart like a complete moron, in the same moment that Michael drops his backpack; sending everything everywhere, _ including _the black-felt ring box he brought two weeks ago.

“I think you might be my soulmate,” Jeremy says, breathlessly and slightly high-pitched, and Michael barely restrains himself from spear tackling the lad, just for some sort of distraction, so he can pick up the black box sitting next to the shopping cart’s wheels. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he spits instead, heart secretly pounding in his chest as he crouches to grab everything. He pockets the box as quickly as possible, playfully bumping shoulders with Jeremy when he drops to his knees to help Michael collect all his crap. 

When they stand up, there’s a funny look in Jeremy’s eyes and Michael panics, jerking the shopping cart forwards and into Jeremy’s shines, forcing his boyfriend to dart left; into a neatly stacked wall of canned peaches. Michael spares him one glance, just to make sure he’s okay—and he is, amongst the mess he’s created—before he books it to the checkout counter. 

The guy at the register stares at him blankly as Michael stacks his items, and he's too frazzled to even think about pulling his pistol out just to get them home faster. 

He’s in the parking lot when Jeremy catches up, eyebrows knitted with worry as he puts one hand on the cart and forces it to stop. 

“Thanks for the help back there,” Jeremy says and Michael shrugs.

“You’re a big boy, I assumed you can handle it,” he replies, trying for a cocky grin if only to distract Jeremy from his shaky hands. 

Jeremy rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning as stares out into the car park, eyes searching for their car. “You’re never usually that flustered when we flirt,” he says, side-eyeing Michael, who sighs, “it was cute.”

“Jeremy, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to—” 

“What? Propose?” he replies, fluttering his eyelashes and Micheal’s heart stops. He stares at Jeremy, who raises an eyebrow back at him.

“I don't know what you’re talking—”

“I saw the box, Micheal,” he interrupts, his mouth curling into a sly grin. “There’s only one possible thing it could be and I can tell by your reaction I’m right.”

As if by instinct, Michael lies. “You’re wrong, though. It’s for Lindsay. Earrings. Last time we went out shopping, she told me she liked them so I decided to buy them for her. A surprise gift.”

“Show me then,” he says, and the sudden urge to strangle him runs through Michael. When he doesn’t move to prove himself, Jeremy’s grin gets even wider. 

“Jeremy Jones. Michael Dooley.”

“Shut up,” Michael hisses at him, but Jeremy just takes a step closer to him.

“Mr & Mr Dooley-Jones. My name first, purely for Alphabetical reasons, you understand.” Michael takes a step back, just because he can, and almost instantly Jeremy closes the distance between them again. “Gavin will be the best man. I’ll ask Ryan to be mine. Jack and Geoff can walk me down the aisle because you know they won’t shut up unless we let them. We can have the ceremony on Mt Chiliad and—“

Michael spins on his heel and grabs two fistfuls of Jeremy’s shirt, yanking him in for a desperate kiss. When they pull apart, Jeremy goes boneless, sinking to his knees and Michael stares down at him with a frown.

“Don’t you dare,” he mutters, as Jeremy presents Michael’s black ring box without a hint of guilt for pickpocketing it from him. “This was my thing, you bastard. I wanted to be the one to propose.”

“You’re too slow _ again _,” he whispers, popping open the box, “I can’t keep waiting for you to catch up, baby.”

“I hate you,” Michael replies as Jeremy plucks the silver band out of the box. He slides it onto his own finger with a shitheaded grin, and Michael can’t help but drop to his knees beside his fiance just so he can kiss him again, fingers curling in Jeremy’s hair. 

When Jeremy’s hand moves to cradle his jaw, Michael can feel the cool metal of the ring against his skin, and it’s hands down the best feeling in the world.


End file.
